For the Love of a Legate
by ShieraCole23
Summary: The great Legate, Rikke is tasked with crushing the Stormcloak rebellion, but the arrival of a strange woman who is half imperial and half khajiit and dead set on bedding her will make the job twice as hard. Rikke/OC pairing. Story is much better than the summary.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first ever fanfiction and I could really use some reviews on my writing, so here it is. Don't know why but I fell in love with Rikke in the game so I decided to make a love story about her. Kind of long, but please bare with me.

Disclaimer:All rights go to Bethesda

She called herself Tsidahra. Rikke was skeptical about trusting her but Tullius seemed willing to bargain with her after she brought them the head of the bandit chief from Fort Hraggstad.

"If you don't mind my asking, but what are you exactly?" asked General Tullius, placing his hands on his hips.

"This one is half-breed. Mother was khajitt, father was imperial. This one was raised by khajitt caravans in Tamriel until she left to come to Skyrim." She spoke with a khajitt accent as well as in their strange third person speech, but Rikke had to believe her. She was only slightly taller than the legate with a slender, toned body. She wore clothing similar to the forsworn's but hers was crafted from a sabre cat pelt. Her face was angular and cat-like with large amber eyes and she had a long tail with a tuft of black hair on the tip. Wavy waist-length dark brown hair framed her face to perfection and even Tullius seemed to be ogling her body that could rival Dibella's easily.

But she was looking directly at Rikke. She hadn't even glanced the general's way since she arrived, blood soaked and covered in cuts and scratches.

"Well then, tomorrow, we'll test your arm before we make a final decision." Tullius said.

"But she completed the task. She should be taking the oath." Rikke grumbled, exhausted and nearly ready to collapse after not sleeping for almost 2 days straight. The rebellion was keeping her on her toes, fulfilling tasks for Tullius who did nothing but spend his days in the Blue Palace, micromanaging every decision Elisif made.

"This Tsidahra does not mind." said the half-breed with a flick of her tail. "As long as the Legate is present." She smirked, almost seductively at the older woman before departing as silently and mysteriously as she had come.

"Well," Tullius said, turning back to Rikke. "Be up at dawn tomorrow in the training area. When we're done with her, we'll start discussing plans to take back the pale."

"Let me guess, I'm leading the march?"

"Of course. Who else can I trust to do it?"

"Amand, Fasendil-" the Legate began, but was shut down at once by the general.

"Not another word. Go to bed, Rikke. See you at dawn." He turned on his heels and walked away, leaving an exhausted Rikke to stumble to her bedroom, grumbling every step of the way. She barely managed to wrestle out of her heavy armor before collapsing onto the bed. But sleep wouldn't descend just yet. The half-breed slipped into her thoughts and disrupted the flow of dreams. She wondered if her skin was as smooth as it looked and her fingers twitched at the thought of finding out.

"Ugh!" Rikke shot up in bed, confusion etched across her face. _Why the hell was she thinking about a woman in such a way? _She growled to herself, punched the pillow a few times before falling back onto it again. This time, sleep hit her like a club and she could finally rest.

The next morning found the Legate and the General waiting in the training yard. Aldis and a few of his men were present as well.

"Where is she?" asked the guard captain. "Are you sure we must go through this trouble for this woman? Is she worth it?"

"I believe so, yes." Tullius answered. "She cleared out an entire fort on her own."

"This one has arrived." They all turned at the sound of a melodious khajitt-like voice as Tsidahra entered the yard. She wore the same attire as the night before but this time, she had a pair of ebony knives strapped to her thighs and a strange black bow strapped to her back.

"Finally you arrive." Aldis growled. "Take up stance." He motioned one of his men forward. Tsidahra drew her knives as the soldier drew his sword and raised his shield. "Begin!"

The soldier stalked forward defensively. Tsidahra frowned and looked at Rikke. "This is true test of skill? He is not trained. This Tsidahra will not fight a boy."

"What are you talking about?" Aldis said. "He is one of my best!"

Tsidahra sheathed her weapons and relaxed, waving the man on. He charged, sword raised and roaring like he was going for the kill, only to be sent rolling across the ground after a quick smack to the face by the half-breed. She looked completely bored and slightly irritated at the lack of challenge as he charged again and nearly took his head off with a loud, powerful kick to the side of his jaw.

"Enough!" Rikke snapped. "Obviously your 'best' men need more training, Aldis. Tell him what they're doing wrong, then show us anything else you need to so I can prepare to leave."

The legate was very much aware of the incredulous looks she was receiving, plus the irate one from Aldis, but at this point she was too annoyed to care. By this time the next morning, she would be on her way up north to put an end to this foolish rebellion, added to her restless night, she was in no mood to deal with nonsense. She was almost positive this was just some ploy by Tullius to ogle the woman without being ridiculed by his feisty legate.

Tsidahra smiled, a mysterious smile, that revealed rows of catlike teeth and nodded repectfully. "For one, his stance is weak. He can be knocked over too easily. Your men must strike with precision and purpose, and not give away intention by bellowing like crazed goat. As for your second request..." A black and purple fire began swirling in her palms as she launched both at the ground, a few feet from the gathered legion. A pale wolf flickered into existence, unleashing a thunderous howl from its gullet. A flame atronach materalized next to it. The flames in her hands turned orange and she let loose a stream of fire into the air, followed by a single blast that could've destroyed the entire yard if she had wished to do so.

The men were now staring at her in shock, some with fear, but Rikke found herself smilling, oddly enough at the strange woman.

"Well, um," Tullius cleared his throat. "Rikke, she'll be assigned to your guard. Give her the oath then follow me so we can get started." He walked briskly back into Castle Dour. Rikke turned to her new charge and watched as she made the atronach and familiar dissipate. She turned around walked toward her, her hips moving with a natural seductive sway and her bare feet making no sound on th smooth stone. Rikke noticed for the first time an amulet of Dibella shimmered from around her neck. _Of course. _

"This Tsidahra wants to know the name of her commander."

"Legate Rikke. You are to be part of my guard, but with your skill, I would see you as something better, perhaps a personal escort." she paused to see the woman's reaction but she said nothing, instead she slowly looked Rikke up and down, as if appraising her, but there was a mischeivous glint in her eyes that made the legate bare her own. "Repeat after me: Upon my honor I do swear undying loyalty to the Emperor, Titus Mede ll... and unwavering obedience to the officers of his great empire. May those those above me judge me, and those below me take, if I fail in my duty. Long live the Emperor! Long live the Empire!" Tsidahra repeated the oath. "Now, go to Beirand and get your new armor. Spend the day as you wish, but I expect you to be at the gates at first light, packed and ready to go. As far as I know, we'll be travelling with a small company of about 100 men to our camp in the Pale."

"That is small company?" Tsidahra asked.

"Yes. Any questions?"

"This one is satisfied."

"Good, you are dismissed." Rikke turned and marched away.

Tsidahra watched her shapely ass disappear into Castle Dour and a sly smirk cracked her lips as she imagined what it looked like uncovered. A skip found its way into her step as she went to find Beirand. The task was rather easy, seeing as he was right outside the gate. She chose medium armor, only to tear it apart before his eyes. She made it into an ensemble, similar to the one she was currently wearing. She used the scraps that would've protected her midriff to make a decorative piece of plate for her tail.

By then it was midday and she was starving. A quick stop at the local inn had her belly quickly filled with chicken, pork and beef. She dropped her new armor off at her room before making her way down to the stables. The owner, Katla, gave her a large golden stallion, in exchange for 1200 gold. A silver tongue soon had the price down to 800. With her more important duties completed, Tsidahra retired to her room and spent the rest of the day oiling and shining her modified legion armor.

As she worked, she let her mind wander to her new commander. The woman had caught her eye as soon as she stepped across the castle threshold. Strong, feisty, just like she liked them. Rikke had to be twice her age and the lines around her eyes and lips indicated that, but Tsidahra could only think of the woman as striking beautiful, seasoned and mature, unlike the young floozys that she seemed to attract. She wanted Rikke. There was simply no other way to put it. It was then that she realized that maybe the legate preferred men. That mattered not, she would have her, not just her body but her heart. She slept soundly that night, dreaming of the taste of her legate's lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Tsidahra could hardly contain herself when Rikke rode toward the stables on a glistening black warhorse. She had to force her tail to be still when the older woman came up beside her and dipped her head respectfully.

"Morning, Legate."

"Morning, Tsidahra." She gave her armor the once over, raising an eyebrow. "You sure you want to go in that? By this time tomorrow, you'll be freezing your tail off. Not to mention the attention you'll get from the men."

"The female form is beautiful, no? This one does not try to hide, but for society's sake, she must. As for the men, I only have eyes for one and I could easily take theirs out."

"You have a… mate, then?" Rikke asked as they turned the horses toward the road and set off at a gentle pace. "Wait, you just spoke in first person."

"I did." Tsidahra said. "It slips in and out, mostly when I am comfortable with my company. I am half khajiit but was raised by Imperials. But no, I have no mate, but I have prospects for one."

"Oh yeah? A trader with the caravans?"

"A warrior."

"Hmm. Do I know him?"

"Yes, but you will not guess their name."

"Then I won't try."

They rode in a comfortable silence for a while, before an arrow came from the trees and clinked off Rikke's shoulder guard. The legate didn't have time to turn around before a small projectile, thrown with surprising force glanced off the back of her head, rocking her.

"Rikke!" Tsidahra cried, seeing the blood trickling down the legate's head as Stormcloaks poured out of the woods, brandishing giant swords and axes. Rikke's horse bolted, throwing its barely conscious rider at the same time. Rikke hit the ground hard, but luckily still had the wherewithal to roll to her feet. She unsheathed her sword and managed to block a few strikes and parry a few swings .

"RIKKE!" Tsidahra launched herself off her horse, dropping to all fours and sprinting toward her as fast as she could. Rikke was holding her own, but there were too many to fight alone. Tsidahra leaped into the middle of the fray, slicing three throats before she'd even realized it herself, such was her fear that her Rikke would be harmed. She set three more on fire before leaping onto another one and snapping his neck. One of them managed to slice her left thigh as they closed in and she struck out violently in all directions as they sliced her arms and her thigh again. She summoned a fire blast and blew half of them away and went to crouch over Rikke who'd collapsed, hissing and tail lashing like a sabre cat.

The remaining Stormcloaks formed a circle around her with swords drawn. She lashed out as they closed in, sparing a moment to look down at Rikke, blood still pouring from the wound in her head. The sight of it filled her with a fury that she'd never felt before and she bared her teeth before allowing the anger to take over her and she attacked.

Rikke's guards arrived minutes later, shocked at the sight of Stormcloak corpses so close to Solitude and the blood soaked woman crouching over their legate, who was cursing her head off.

"Legate!" they cried as they approached.

"Now you choose to come!" Rikke roared as Tsidahra pulled her to her feet, her tail jumping at the physical contact. The legate's hands were rough with a powerful grip, unlike hers which was soft and smooth from her khajiit blood.

"Where the hell have you been?!" Rikke snapped. "And why is there a full squad of Stormcloaks within our borders?!" The men were left stammering for an answer as she shoved her way through them, followed closely by Tsidahra and began checking the bodies. The men followed suit but they couldn't find any message that would show the reason behind the attack or how they knew of Rikke's departure.

Tsidahra handed the legate a cloth to clean her head, but the blood would have to be washed out of her hair. She wanted to undo the plaits from the older woman's head and run her fingers through them, even if they were red and encrusted with dried blood. She herself, would definitely need a bath. The blood was already drying and sticking.

"Legate, are you well? This one is concerned."

Rikke turned to look at her. "I'm fine. Thank you. I believe you just saved my life."

"Your well being is this one's only thought. Compensation is not necessary." Tsidahra absently picked at the metal plate on her tail. Rikke didn't turn away from her, instead choosing to watch the woman carefully.

"You took out an entire squad of stormcloaks and saved the life of a legate, and you don't want any money for it? Increase in rank?"

"I would like to be made your housecarl, if that is possible." Tsidahra said, meeting Rikke's eyes.

"I'm a legate, I don't need a housecarl."

"Then I will be your lieutenant, at your side at all times, to protect you and fight beside you in battle."

"Protect me?" Rikke narrowed her eyes at the half-breed and held her intense gaze.

"You obviously need it." Tsidahra's lip cracked into a smirk.

"Are you mocking me?"

"Yes."

"Fine, we'll make it official later," She turned to the others. "Get rid of these bodies now! I need a bath already and the day has only begun."

The pair went to a nearby river, Tsidahra refusing to leave the older woman alone, despite her protests. She stood guard while Rikke undressed, a task much harder than it seemed. It took every ounce of her willpower not to turn around and sneak a peek at the legate as she loudly fumbled with her armor, grumbling and cursing the entire time. There was a loud clank as the heavy steel hit the ground, followed by a soft splash as her naked love interest entered the water.

"You can come in now." Came the command.

Tsidahra turned and watched Rikke as she washed her hair, wincing as her fingers grazed over her wound. The half breed nearly tore off her clothes and dropped her weapons on the ground, unleashing a yowl as she dove into the water. Rikke was in the process of turning around, shocked by the animal like cry of her newest lieutenant when Tsidahra stopped her and pushed her hands out of the way. "You will disturb the wound, scratching at your head like that." She chastised hotly as she gently cleaned the legate's hair. She was too focused on her task of making sure the woman didn't hurt herself further to try and steal a glance at Rikke's naked form. The legate herself was deep in thought regarding her recent near death experience.

"Legate." Tsidahra said.

"Yes?"

"This one would like to make her intentions clear."

"Back to third person are we?"

"Do not change subject. This Tsidahra has no intention in this rebellion. She could care less about it. This one wants you, Legate. She wished to make it known. I prefer the touch of a woman to that of a man. Does this bother you?"

Oddly enough, it didn't. "So, you want me?" Rikke asked.

Tsidahra let her hands fall and took a step back to admire the toned body of her legate. True, due to her age, certain parts were beginning to droop but she could not help but think how beautiful Rikke was. Her clawed fingers itched to touch her, to run her hands over the soft flesh. The urge to bite her, to mark her was almost unbearable. She'd been staring too long. The smack of Rikke's hand left a bright red mark on the side of her face. She glared at the woman.

"You didn't answer my question." Rikke growled.

Tsidahra's eyes widened and she grinned once she realized the reason behind the slap. "Then I will not." She ducked beneath the water and swam a little ways downstream to bathe.

Rikke couldn't quite believe her ears. In all her years, never has she been at complete loss of words. She didn't know what to make of the half breed declaration. It had been years since she'd even considered courting anyone. And yet here was this beautiful woman practically asking for her permission to do so. That is, before she found she could be a bitch. No problem, she could be one too. She watched as Tsidhara scrubbed herself until her skin was bright red. Rikke took in the sight of her shapely form as she slowly exited the water, picked up a rock and tossed it.

Tsidahra's head jerked forward and she hissed as she spun around.

"Time to go." Rikke smirked.

"If you wanted to play, legate, all you needed was to ask." Tsidahra said.

"Fine then. Let's play."


End file.
